


Desistance

by inatshej



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Porn, Blow Jobs, Boys Kissing, College Student Stiles, Deputy Derek, Derek Leaves Beacon Hills, Gay Sex, Hopeful Ending, Licking, London, Loneliness, M/M, Neck Kissing, POV Derek, Rimming, Sad Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 21:10:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8816347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inatshej/pseuds/inatshej
Summary: Derek desists living. He just is now out there, until he meets Stiles.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I had no idea what to think of this story until I have seen Angst and Porn tag here. So, that's what this story is about, angst and porn.  
> I'm sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language. It would be nice to have a beta.  
> You know, just tossing it out there.

This time it's London. He rents a room close to his work at the warehouse. It's small, the fridge is full of frozen food, and the bathroom is dirty, but he will have enough money left for the groceries and some to save. The previous tenant has left a plant, now withering.

His job is simple, repetitive. He doesn't need to talk with the others and is grateful for that. He doesn't plan on staying here for long.

It's the third month and he is wondering idly on turning in his resignation letter when the new guy comes in. His name is Stiles, he is also from the US, here just for the holidays, wants to work a bit and do some sightseeing.

Derek doesn't care. Stiles comes up to him and speaks up anyway. Derek only nods and shakes his head but it seems to be enough for Stiles.

It doesn't stop. Stiles greets him, spends some breaks with him, says bye everyday. When Stiles asks where he is from, he answers. Stiles was born in Beacon Hills as well. Isn't that amazing?

Derek turns his head away, forcing himself to swallow through a bile in his throat after having to remember the city.

They don't talk about anything serious, just some comic books, music, TV series. Derek shrugs off any questions about his plans. Mutters something about going to Berlin later on. He doesn't quit and take off from London, though it feels like he should have already.

Stiles talks with other workers as well on the breaks. Now, Enese and Yesenia smile at him, Mitul laughs at something. It makes Derek avert his eyes. He thinks about leaving everything here and going to Berlin, futher away from Beacon Hills, where he doesn't know anyone, where everything is new.

Stiles waves at him.

He stays.

The plant in his room looks better now, greener.

There is a party at the company they work for. Derek doesn't plan on attending. Stiles does. Derek finds himself at the place, drinking slowly, because the food isn't good and he doesn't want to socialize. So he drinks until Stiles sees him and comes up, grinning. They talk the whole night. Derek is smiling and it's a bit strange, because he hasn't done it in a while.

A few days later Stiles asks him about going to the Science Museum. He feels like he should turn the proposition down but can't understand why exactly, so he agrees. Derek wants them to meet at 12 before the entrance to not swap their phone numbers or e-mail adresses, it's just safer that way.

It's nice. Stiles is genuinely interested in science and Derek finds out he still remembers some stuff on his own. He was learning a lot when still in Beacon Hills, but then-

Anyway, he doesn't need to know all this now.

They leave the bulding and buy too expensive ice creams. He shouldn't spend his money like that, but it's just one time. Stiles is carefreely happy and Derek can't stop the little smile on his lips at the glance at him.

Stiles is leaving soon. He is going to study. Derek doesn't want to hear about it. He changes the topic to _Doctor Who_.

Stiles wants to meet Mitul, Enese and Yesenia at the pub on Saturday. His plane is on Monday morning. Derek comes, feeling like he ought to. He wants Stiles to leave already. He wants him to stay with him. He closes his eyes, forces his mind to stay quiet.

He drinks his beer. Smiles at the others' jokes and when they take photos with Stiles. Complain about the job and their manager. Share the plans. Derek says he's not sure yet.

He gives Stiles Batman keychain. He feels stupid and regrets it immediately, handing it out. Stiles lightens up at the sight of it and hugs him. Derek freezes, surprised.

Soon, it's time for the others to go. Soon, it's just Stiles and Derek. Soon, Derek wants to stand up and go out and not think anymore, but Stiles asks him to come with to give Derek something. He needs to say sorry now and quit the company and go to Berlin for another shitty job. He sees Stiles' eyes, questioning, his fingers tapping nervously a broken rhythm, his tensed up shoulders, and nods before realising what he's agreed for.

Stiles gives him polish sweets awkwardly. He looks at the pack called _Jeżyki_. He thinks about how to read it, why _polish_ sweets, why is he here, in Stiles' room. He doesn't say anything. Wonders if he should leave now, but he doesn't want to.

Stiles stands up abruptly and comes closer to Derek, hesitates for a second, and kisses him.

It's small and gentle, just lips touching lips. Derek lets out a breath, his eyes closed. When he opens them and watches Stiles' blush spreading, he moves closer and kisses him, his hand lightly on the boy's shoudler. It ends and they stare at each other, breathing with parted lips. Derek's eyes flick down to Stiles' mouth and he observes the way he licks his lips uncounsciously. Derek lurches forwards to kiss him, any thoughts gone. When Stiles answers, his hands gripping Derek's shirt, a sudden want rushes through him. He moves his hand to Stiles neck, deepening the kiss, the other gripping Stiles' hip. Their whole bodies touch now and he strokes Stiles' back, hair, arms.

Stiles moans into the kiss and moves his hands to cup Derek's face, then combs his hair.

Derek can't get enough, touches Stiles' butt, presses their groins and they both groan.

'Bed', says Stiles brokenly and Derek can only nod in the answer, his mouth already seeking Stiles' again.

They tumble on the bed kissing again, hurriedly try to loose their shirts and kiss even more, frantic, both panting now and flushed. Stiles lays down on him, exploring his chest, tease his nipples with hand and hears Derek's breath hitch, breaks the kiss to move downwards, trail with his tongue Derek's neck, chest, nipples again, goes even further down.

'Stiles-', he manages to let out when Stiles takes off his pants, then groans, feeling Stiles mouthing at his dick. He looks down to see Stiles undressing him and then staring at his shaft before licking it, kissing the crown, and as Stiles takes the whole length inside, his head tilts back to hit the matress, hands fisting the sheets.

He touches Stiles' hair later, his shoulders, urging him to come up to share another kiss. Stiles lets himself be pulled up and Derek kisses him fervently, trying to taste his precome from Stiles. He dominates, turning Stiles on his back and laying on top of the man, kissing his neck and then nipples, feeling Stiles arching his back, hearing him moan. He takes off Stiles' pants and curls his fingers around the cock, sucking the end. Stiles cries out and his hips jolt.

Derek trails the length with his tongue, stroking the shaft, feeling as turned on as Stiles must be, his ragged breaths and moans filling the air.

Stiles reaches down to Derek's hair and pulling at them, says in a hoarse voice but still clearly, 'I want you to fuck me'.

Derek stops and grips his own dick hard, abruptly feeling too much of everything.

'Yeah', he answers, staring at Stiles' messy hair and red lips, his blush reaching up to his chest. He licks Stiles balls, then goes even further down, pulling up Stiles' knees and gripping them, trying to anchor himself with the touch, looks at the entrance and licks again. It's light and more questioning than anything else. Stiles exhales audibly and parts his legs even more. Derek could come just at this sight of Stiles opening up to him.

He licks more instead and fucks Stiles hole with his tongue, kisses it, pushes one finger covered with lube in and licks on the outside, drags another in, wetting his other hand with spit and reaching up to Stiles' nipples, slips the third one in, staring at Stiles' face, not letting himself think of anything else but Stiles, pushing away all the thoughts he should have, all the doubts and questions – it's just Stiles and him now.

At least for now.

He rolls on the condom he got from Stiles, glancing at the half-empty pack, forcing himself to let go of the possesive question, _who else_ -

Stiles kisses him and he tries to forget himself in the touches, the warmth of their bodies pressing, the impatience of breathing quickly, searching hands gripping too hard.

He slips in slowly, inch by inch. It's hot and tight, and it's _Stiles_ , licking his lips, rolling his hips a little, trying to get Derek faster in. He lets out a small sound and Stiles grabs his hips to force Derek to be deeper in. Stiles moans and Derek gasps, hiding his face in Stiles' neck, smelling him and licking the skin. He is all the way in now and Stiles rolls his hips again, just a bit, trying to get some friction, his breathing loud in the quiet room. Derek jerks and a sigh escapes Stiles. He moves in and out, dragging out his movements, can't tear his eyes away from Stiles' face, him biting his lip, listening in to the sounds he makes, watching his reddened skin.

It's overwhelming when Stiles clasps his thighs around Derek, drawing him in even closer, deeper, shifting beneath and kissing him, his neck, Stiles' hands on his back.

'More', Stiles breaths out and Derek pushes in, withdraws, continues to pound into Stiles, who takes everything, so beautiful and close, who comes as soon as Derek strokes him, who doesn't stop Derek when he keeps moving, his orgasm just after Stiles'.

They inhale, trying to calm their heartbeats and Stiles kisses him. Derek lets the fulfillment fog his mind, his head on Stiles' shoulder. They lay like this for some time, Stiles stroking his hair and face slowly. It feels good, like he doesn't have to worry about anything anymore.

'Come with me to Beacon Hills', says Stiles softly.

Derek freezes. The name reminds him of everything-

Laura was-

but his _whole family_ -

Kate and the fire, when-

Suddenly cold, he sits up, turning away from Stiles, clenching his fists.

'Derek-', starts Stiles.

'It's fine', he cuts him off. Stands up to put on his shirt.

'Derek, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-, please', Stiles speaks up again. Derek zips up his pants and searches for the shoes.

He sits down to lace them and Stiles just looks at him, shocked.

'Please', he says one more time, weak as never.

Derek goes out.

He works this week. It's bad. Mitul, Enese and Yesenia keep sending him worried glances, ask if he's okay, finally Mitul inquiers if he needs to go home. Derek shakes his head.

He feels tired every time he comes back to his room. Doesn't have enough strength to stand up and water the plant.

Stiles doesn't contact him. He can't. Derek has never given him his phone number, e-mail adress, anything. It was for the better.

He turns in his resignation letter. Says bye to everyone after two weeks. It all feels empty.

He should go to Berlin now.

He buys a plane ticket. Packs his stuff. Takes the plant.

Keeps it in his hand throughout the whole travel, first walk, then bus, underground, bus again, walk, plane, walk, bus, walk.

He is in Beacon Hills.

He doesn't let himself think about it and looks for a flat, staying in a hostel. He finds a place two weeks later.

It's nicer than what he had in London. He finds a spot for his plant and waters it.

He busies himself. The first month, now gone, was spent with a strange mix of half hoping, half dreading meeting Stiles.

He didn't meet him.

He applies to work as a deputy. He has all the requiered exams passed from before. He was supposed to live here, after all, but Laura died, and-

There is just background examination, an interview and training waiting for him now.

He fulfills all of them. The sheriff is alright. His polish surname, Stilinski, reminds him of sweets Stiles gave him. He still has them.

He works and waters his plant.

He is okay. More so than when he was in London without Stiles. Worse than when he was in London with him.

Sheriff suggests a dinner and he agrees. They eat take away in sheriff's house and Derek hears about his son who supposedly cooks really well. Derek smiles a bit, remembering Stiles boasting about his lasagne.

He sees one of the photographs and stills, staring at the boy in the picture. He feels cold in his stomach, sick and suddenly powerless, because it's Stiles.

Stiles is sheriff's son, studying at a college somewhere. Close with other people, experimenting or whatever it is you do in a college. If they could talk, they would have gotten to the point of sharing more serious things eventually, Derek would know what he does, but-

He works. He likes this job. He feels better, calmer, manages to visit all the graves and doesn't shake all over.

His plant is green, alive.

The whole time he has spent in London and earlier in New York and Mexico feels like a pause, and now when he's back in Beacon Hills, strangely, it's living again.

A few months later, he's going through some paperwork when he hears someone coming in.

'Derek?', asks Stiles. His cheeks are flushed from the cold air as he looks at him, wide-eyed and unsure.

Derek stares right back. He can't find anything to say. He stays quiet, but doesn't tear his eyes away.

Stiles takes one more step towards him, then halts, watching him. A moment pass and Derek sees him turning away to rush down the corridor to his dad.

It's okay, he tries to convince himself, his eyes shut, his hand gripping the pen too hard. He can find work somewhere else. If not as a deputy, then well, just anything will do.

Stiles goes out after what feels like hours and stops by Derek's desk again.

'So', he speaks up, looking somewhere else. 'Does your break starts now?'.

Derek shakes his head, then forces himself to say, 'No'.

Stiles nods. 'Yeah, it does. So, come on, for your coffee, and bagel, and stuff'.

Derek stands up and follows Stiles, not understanding what exactly is going on.

They walk out of the building. It's even snowing now, this close to Christmas. That's why Stiles is here, realises Derek, because of the holidays.

Stiles reaches up to take a snowflake from his cheek and Derek flushes, blinking, but continues to stare at the man.

Just as Stiles is to take his hand away, startled at what he's done, Derek catches it with his own, keeping it in place and leaning in to the touch.

'I'm sorry', says Stiles.

Derek shakes his head. 'I am. It was-', he closes his eyes and sighs, 'bad of me'. Still keeping Stiles' hand on his cheek, he closes in for the kiss. It's sweet and warm. He buries his head in Stiles' neck. 'I love you', he whispers, desperate. 'I'm so sorry-'.

'No', Stiles interjects, his other hand in Derek's hair. 'Just-, do you want this? For now? To try, or-'.

'I want', Derek responds, looking up at Stiles. 'Please'.

'Yeah', Stiles smiles tentatively, but it's enough for Derek to smile a bit, too.

 


End file.
